Residual Affect
by ii Digestive Reader ii
Summary: The Blue Shadow Virus. Deadly? Yes. Vastly under-researched? Of course. It killed trillions once upon a time...and if they're not careful...Senator Amidala may be next. (A "Secrets of the Negotiator" prequel)
1. Prologue

Prologue

* * *

 _"Because fear leads to the Dark Side," Anakin muttered, letting one hand hang down. He turned his head to Obi-Wan. "Did I ever tell you what happened after the Blue Shadow Virus?"_

 _He raised his eyebrows. Where had that come from? "What's there to tell? It was contained. Everyone was...fine."_

 _Anakin forced out a chuckle, leaning his head against the wall. "Padmé relasped. She couldn't keep any food or water down. She...could barely take a step without stumbling. The Queen ordered a quarantine at the Royal Hospital of Theed. The doctors thought she...wouldn't survive."_

 _Obi-Wan's mind raced back to last year, when the Senator had contracted the virus. He remembered Anakin's blind panic to find a cure, and thought it was ridiculous to feel so much attachment for a friend. Now that he understood the truth of their relationship, the words he had spoken then seemed so hurtful. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Anakin."_

 _"She's...fine now."_

 _He wasn't terribly convinced that was the case, but he let the situation rest. With a sigh he rose from the hard seat. "Caf?"_

* * *

The first time Captain Typho meets Anakin Skywalker, well…

The good captain thinks the padawan is an arrogant twat. The padawan has some good ideas, but he's a bit odd, prone to anger, and generally not very Jedi-like at all.

He doesn't quite know what to think when his Senator - his former Queen for bloody's sakes - gathers the handmaidens, staff, and security team in the sitting room. In the midst of a new _war,_ Geonosis, the Clone Army, Jedi Military, Separatist movement...she has married.

To Anakin Skywalker.

A brash, 19-year-old _padawan_ whose now a commander in a galactic war.

What. The. Hell.

Goddess help him.

"Then," Senator Amidala says oh so sweetly, "should I find any of this information leaked," she pauses, stares everyone down for a moment, letting fear settle in, a gleam in her eyes. "You'll find yourself on the losing end of a lawsuit."

Everybody is dismissed, the fear of the Goddess and Senator Amidala fresh in their minds.

Everybody except the core handmaidens and Captain Typho.

Senator Amidala visibly relaxes, shoulders sinking while murmuring, "I don't need your judgement regarding my marriage - just your help in ensuring we all stay safe."

Captain Typho speaks for the assembled. "You have our word, my lady."

* * *

"Master Obi-Wan?" Anakin asks in surprise when he steps down from the shuttle ramp. He glances around the unusually busy hangar, watching padawans and knights and _clones_ move around the many ships, putting supplies on and barking out orders. 'What are you doing here?"

"Welcoming you back from your medical leave, of course," Obi-Wan responds wryly, letting a chuckle escape at his padawan's eye roll. "You missed quite a bit."

"I know, master, I apologize."

"Well - I accept the apology - over there Cody, red ship! - I can honestly say I wish I had been in your position -"

"Medical leave?"

"Things here have been…"

"Hetic? Shitty?" Anakin offers while they weave through the hangar, and he grins at the pat on the shoulder he receives. "Listen, Master, I wanted to talk about what happened...on my...leave."

Obi-Wan grimaces while he digs out his chirping comlink, jogging the last few steps out of the hangar to answer in relative silence. "Yes Mace?"

" _Ryloth has been attacked."_

" _What?_ Oh that's not good."

" _We're trying to get communications through - do you have Skywalker with you? We may need his expertise."_

 _My expertise?_ Anakin thinks, giddy besides the dread building in his stomach.

"He just came in," Obi-Wan says before Anakin can reply. "Where should we meet you?"

" _Transmission chamber is fine."_

Obi-Wan sighs when the transmission cuts, not quite seeing his padawan's white face. "This war...I have found myself praying it will be over soon."

"How long do you think it will last?"

"Come now, Anakin - didn't you learn anything from your history studies? Wars on a galactic scale don't last long - history has proven that. A year or two at the most...but to have _Ryloth_ bombed...I wonder if - Anakin, are you okay?"

 _Two years…_ Anakin resists the urge to run a finger over his new wedding band - it was covered by a damned glove anyways - and forced a nod. _From honeymoon to warzone._

 _So much for leaving the Order when I finish my apprenticeship._

* * *

 _Author's note: hello my dears! The long awaited mini-series about the Blue Shadow Virus is finally here!_

 _I wanted to put off this fic, but my health...well, it hasn't been great. I need to use this for working through some things and hopefully bring you guys a good story as well._

 _Enjoy :)_

 _(As usual I'll edit this at a later date)_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


	2. What's at Stake Here?

Chapter One: What's at Stake Here?

* * *

 _As the Separatist rebellion rages through the galaxy, even peaceful planets are threatened._  
 _Following the discovery of Separatist droids wandering the grassy wasteland, Naboo is once again on high alert. Fearing their home is facing another invasion, Senator Amidala and Representative Binks race to Naboo to assess the situation. Meanwhile, near the Gungan swamplands, an even graver threat is about to be discovered._

* * *

"I've never been to Naboo - is it nice?"

Master Kenobi - sitting on the ground of the transport - gave a hard snort, barely glancing from his datapad. "Ask your Master - I'm not exactly the person that has pleasant memories of the planet."

"Why?"

Anakin rolled his eyes, reaching down to pat R2-D2 fondly. "Let's just say your master and I have different experiences on Naboo."

Ahsoka cocked her head, not quite understanding. She didn't get a chance to ask for an explanation - the transport clunked, indicating that they were entering the atmosphere.

* * *

Captain Typho stared at the skyline, tapping his fingers against his arms while he waited. Anxious wasn't exactly a word he would use to describe what he was feeling. His uncle had trusted him to protect the Senator's life, and now...well, he had fucked up so many times he wondered what would happen.

But not with the Nubian Embassy - oh no, they trusted him.

It was a certain Jedi knight, whose ship was gliding into the hangar. _Smoothly,_ Gregar noticed wryly.

"It appears Master Ani is not piloting," C-P3O muttered beside him.

"Master Ani?" Peppi Bow asked quizzically.

Gregar jogged to the transport - more to avoid the droid's praise of 'the maker' than anything. The transport doors hissed open, revealing -

"General Kenobi, Anakin, we're so glad -"

"Where's Senator Amidala?" Anakin asked, barely taking the time to clasp Gregar's hand in greeting.

Gregar sighed. "She went to look for the lab."

Anakin's eyebrows shot upwards. "And you let her go?

C-3PO waddled up to them, his feet clacking on the concrete floor. "Senator Padmé can be very hard to stop once she has made up her mind."

Anakin shook his head. "Good point. I know what you mean.

Gregar only just managed to stop a bemused smile, though he noticed General Kenobi smirk a little. He turned, gesturing to the Gungan farmer behind him. "This is Peppi Bow. She was the last person to see them. Padmé sent her here to safety."

"Theysa looking for the sick maker."

General Kenobi stepped forward, his heavy Coruscanti accent lilting."They"?

"Representative Binks was with her."

R2 chimed, rocking back and forth on his treads.

Anakin turned to the Padawan. "Go with the Gungan. See if you can find them.

"You've got it, Master."

Anakin stepped closer to Typho, watching the padawan walk away while murmuring, "Why didn't you send someone to look for them?"

Gregar held in a wince - he _knew_ how protective the General was of Mistress Padmé. Aware General Kenobi had stopped fidgeting with his comlink, he spoke. "Considering the latest developments, we thought it was best to wait for you."

General Kenobi strolled up to them. "What latest developments?"

* * *

Anakin was pacing, walking fast and unable to still while they waited for Ahsoka's com in the hangar and the clone transports. He looked like shaavit warmed over, emotions bubbling from him in a mess of fear and worry and anger. "Where are they?"

Obi-Wan - leaning against cargo boxes - raised an eyebrow at him. "Patience. They'll be here in a moment...you seem a bit on edge."

Anakin didn't look at him - too busy pacing and grimacing and looking on the verge of a panic attack. "There's a good chance we're about to destroy all life on this planet, including ours and the Senator's, so yes, I'm a bit on edge. Why aren't _you?"_

On edge was an understatement. He is tense to the touch, barely able to move a muscle. This planet...this damn planet is where his life turned, completely and utterly.

He had hopes before landing on the damned, extravagant planet. Plans for the future that went up into smoke the second Maul stabbed Qui-Gon through the stomach.

Would he change having Anakin as an apprentice?

Once upon a time, yes. He would have traded everything, drawn back time, to the moment on that platform on Sundari -

No, no point in thinking of the past.

It's was the past for a reason.

Eyes trained ahead, at Anakin's irritated and restless walk - _really Anakin, attachment is written all over your face -_ Obi-Wan gave a small shrug, leaning a forearm on his drawn knee.

"I'm better at hiding it."

Anakin glared at him, though -

Ahsoka's young voice chimed through the comlink. " _Master, are you there?"_

"Did you find her?"

" _Negative. I'm pretty sure she's inside the lab. The whole area is wired with pressure sensors. There's no way to get in without being detected. But I'm more than happy to - "_

Obi-Wan stood, pressing a button on Anakin's comlink and sending the geo-scans of the lab. "Do not attempt to get inside. I need you to detonate a bunker bomb at the south end of the facility. It should cause a nice distraction and seal off the bomb area while we come in through the hatches.

" _You can count on me."_

Anakin spoke gently. "Rex and his men will be right behind you Snips. They'll have your back."

Ahsoka cut the transmission, leaving the two of them in silence.

Obi-Wan glanced upwards when he heard clone transports whir into the hangar.

"Come on. We'd better hurry."

Obi-Wan stared at his padawan's back - okay, not padawan - while they walked to the now open transports. "Padmé may be lost, Anakin. Don't risk the mission trying to rescue her."

He watched Anakin lean heavily against the transport edge, feeling so...well... something. Carefully, he continued. "I'll take care of the bombs. You focus on the doctor."

Anakin turned around, his voice quiet. It looked like tears were shining in his eyes. "I know what's at stake here."

"I hope you do Anakin," Obi-Wan whispered, watching the transport fly away. "I hope you do."

* * *

 _Author's note: hello hello. I hope you guys like this chapter - we'll get into the nits and grits of this story in the next chapter ;)_

 _It's always been my headcanon that Padmé's staff knew about Anidala's marriage - and I have a soft spot for Captain Typho for some strange reason._

 _Anyways, the next chapter of "Secrets" should be sometime this week and probably "Pictures" within the next two._

 _School started again, and I was keeping up with my various responsibilities...if you follow me on Tumblr, you know I received some potentially scary news about my health - yay chronic illness! - so I've been trying to cope with that._

 _I have only just started feeling better about it, and getting back on my feet gradually. So here you are my dears - Season 1 Obi-Wan Kenobi and newlywed Anakin Skywalker ;)_

 _Enjoy_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


	3. Threatened

Chapter Two: Threatened

* * *

 _Doctor Vindi is now in Republic custody after nearly succeeding in his plans to release an airborne version of deadly Blue Shadow Virus. Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker discuss with the Jedi Council in the Royal Theed Hospital what to do next. Meanwhile, while Padawan Ahsoka Tano and her clone command recover slowly from their brush with death, a different fate awaits Senator Amidala..._

* * *

The door whooshed open, and Obi-Wan turned around in surprise. "Captain Typho - this is a private - "

The captain ignored him, walking into the briefing room - which was filled with the holographic figures of the High Council - and handed a datapad to Anakin.

No one spoke while Anakin studied the datapad, watching his frown deepen while he read. It was impossible to sense his emotions - he put an emotional, impenetrable wall up the moment Obi-Wan tried to poke.

Anakin glanced at the captain, and then to the council. "It appears Senator Amidala must undergo additional testing in order to leave Naboo's atmosphere - she is requesting I stay behind to answer any questions the authorities or the scientists might have."

Obi-Wan felt his eyebrows climb into his hair. He knew there was something going on between the pair, but frankly, he really didn't care right then. He wanted to get off the damn planet that had taken his master from him, and so he kept his mouth shut, letting the rest of the High Council glance at each other and come to a decision. It was hard to deny a request from any Senator - especially Padmé Amidala.

" _For how long?"_ Mace Windu eventually asked.

"The Senator does not know," Captain Typho answered, his tone even and his stare challenging. "She requests that the Jedi does not ask for her medical records once this ordeal is over - even if it's for research purposes."

" _How will we study the Blue -"_ Adi Gallia began, but Anakin cut her off.

"You will deny the right to privacy, Master?" Anakin wasn't usually so tense and mouthy to the Council - only if Senator Amidala was threatened in some way.

"Anakin - " Obi-Wan began, knowing his padawan - _not padawan, not anymore_ \- was in danger of losing the mission.

Master Yoda banged his cane on his chair, silencing everyone. He stared at them for some time, then finally shook his head and murmured, " _Request granted, young Skywalker. Protect the Senator's privacy, we shall."_

Anakin didn't relax his posture, but he did bow his head to the masters. "Thank you, Masters."

"Sir." Captain Typho touched Anakin's elbow. "Now."

Obi-Wan watched them leave, brow furrowing when Anakin and the Captain begin to sprint down the hall the moment they were away from the room - and towards the emergency surgery ward.

" _Obi-Wan."_

"Yes Mace?"

" _Find out if the Senator's health is being threatened in any way. We cannot have her decline, especially now."_

"I hardly...of course Master Windu." Obi-Wan forced a small smile, and nodded his head. "Whatever you say."

The transmission cut, and Obi-Wan leaned against the gently whirring holoprojector, letting out a heavy sigh.

"We never do get a break, do we?"

Obi-Wan gave a rough laugh, turning around and facing his Clone Commander, whom was walking into the projection room. "No...no, unfortunately."

Cody pulled a wry smile, folding his arms over his chest. "Tano is awake - and Rex keeps asking if we can sneak some liquor to him."

"Liquor sounds nice right about now," Obi-Wan muttered, pushing off the holoprojector. "I've been sober for too long to deal with this shit."

* * *

It was one thing to learn that his wife - his world, his Angel, his everything - was the victim of a long eradicated disease. Fine. No ideal, but the cure -

Ha, fuck the cure. That's exactly what he wanted to do - yell at the sky, curse every deity he could think of, head back to the moons of Iego and throttle that brat for giving him the wrong cure…

Because it wasn't enough, it wasn't enough.

"What happened again?" Anakin whispered, not having the energy to yelp or raise his voice. He feared if he moved he would collapse in shock and that's not what anyone needed right now.

The doctor - a Twi'lek female named Jaina - grimaced. If she was shocked to learn that General Skywalker and Senator Amidala were actually married, she did not show it, and instead squared her shoulders while she spoke. "Senator Amidala - she suffered sudden respiratory distress - heart palpitations, blurry vision, loss of consciousness - she cannot breathe without oxygen, she cannot regulate her temperature, she has a drip and a feeding tube, her liver and heart are barely functioning - "

"But the Reeksa root - "

Captain Typho - whom had been leaning against the wall of the private waiting room they had been ushered into - suddenly spoke. "Sir - doesn't the Senator have an allergy to tubers?"

"Nightshades," Anakin muttered, then groaned and paced away. Tears were burning hot down his face. "Reeksa root is a nightshade isn't it?"

"It's a possibility…we've never encountered - "

"I poisoned my own wife?" Anakin shouted, whirling on the doctor. The glass on the two-way windows cracked. He felt a small smile threaten when he watched her flinch away.

"Sir," Captain Typho growled, stepping forward and putting a claw-like hand on the General's shoulder, yanking the young man back. "Enough."

Dr. Jaina swallowed, though she tilted her chin and glared. "Sir - I will ask you to stay away from your wife's room until you learn to control yourself."

"What aren't you telling me?" Anakin demanded.

"General Skywalker," Dr. Jaina started, looking somewhere past his shoulder.

"What's wrong with my wife?" Anakin heard his voice crack while he studied the doctor's hesitation. "Oh god...you don't know do you?"

"...no...we'll do everything in our power but we know _so little_ about the Blue Shadow Virus

"Then find out more!"

"...General...you might want to consider arranging her affairs."

" _...what?"_ Anakin whispered, barely aware he had sunk in the nearest chair.

General Typho's hand tightened on Anakin's shoulder.

"We're not sure if she'll make it."

* * *

 _Author's Note: I don't know whom I relate more to right now: Anakin or Padmé. Probably Padmé. Welp, no one can deny that I can understand the fear that comes with scary medical situations._

 _(Am I using fanfiction to cope? Yes, yes I am. Bite me.)_

 _As usual, I'll edit this at a later date._

 _Bye for now my dears_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


	4. A Question Without an Answer

Chapter Three: A Question Without an Answer

* * *

 _It's been three days since our heroes were admitted to the Royal Theed Hospital. Ahsoka Tano and her men continue to improve, though they did lose two young clones to the after-effects of the deadly Blue Shadow Virus. Meanwhile, Senator Amidala's life hangs in the balance, with her husband Anakin Skywalker forced to make a tough decision...tell her family and expose their marriage to them, or hope for the best?_

* * *

"Mmm...have any three of hearts?"

Ahsoka peered at her cards, then blinked the black spots dancing in her vision before shaking her head. "Nope."

"Damn it." Rex pulled a card from the deck, tucking it into his collection.

"What about two of spades?"

"Kid - how are you winning at this?"

Ahsoka laughed while he reached over the card table between them, only to cough hard. She grimaced, dropping her cards in her lap and coughing into the crook of her elbow. The IV in her opposite arm twitched at the motion, her chest and throat unbelievably sore.

Rex dropped the card had requested on the table and leaned back, pulling the blanket around his shoulders closer. "You okay?"

She shrugged when the fit was over, spitting phlegm into the basin by her bed.

"At least you two are breathing."

Ahsoka craned her neck - and tried not to wince at the stiff muscles - when doors of the Intensive Care Unit whooshed open, expecting a nurse and grinning when she saw whom it was. Gathering her cards from her lap, she whispered in a hoarse chirp, "Hi Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan chuckled, folding his cloak tighter around him while he walked, Cody at his heels. "Rex - you shouldn't corrupt the youth by teaching card games."

"He will respectfully decline that order, General." Cody managed a smirk at the glare his brother shot him, and sat on the bed. "He inherited the reckless gene."

"I believe all Mandalorians have that gene," Obi-Wan murmured wryly. He put a hand on Ahsoka's shoulder, his brow creasing. "How are you feeling, Ahsoka?"

"Like I'm about to cough my lungs up any moment."

"Better then sir." Rex dropped his cards on the card table between their beds, and shivered, trying to pull his blanket tighter around him. "I heard a few of the shinies didn't make it."

Obi-Wan sighed, dropping his hand from Ahsoka's shoulder and folding his arms over his chest. The hospital team had separated the afflicted into twos, putting them into Intensive Care Units that were designed to become an operating theater within a moment's notice. But even with all the precautions…

"You two are alive, Captain. We must count our wins, not our losses."

Cody and Rex glanced at each other.

"What about Senator Amidala?" Ahsoka asked, clearing her throat between words. "I haven't seen Anakin or her -"

" _Master Skywalker..._ well, I - I'll try to find him. Senator Amidala and her team requested he stay behind while you and the clones are transported back to Coruscant in four days time. The Queen is requesting various testing before the Senator can leave the atmosphere."

"Meaning we'll be cleared?" Rex asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "We might still be contagious."

"Oh I agree - but the Virus appears to be exiting your system. Besides," Obi-Wan managed to grin. "The Republic needs the 501st back in action."

Rex chuckled, then held a fist to his chest and grimaced. "I might have to take a few sick days sir."

"Duly noted."

* * *

Anakin had slept in many, many places. Well in all honesty, he didn't sleep much anyway. One had to sleep with one eye open on Tatooine - never knew what to expect, what might happen.

The Jedi healers had issued him sleep-aids at a young age, tried deep breathing techniques - nothing helped much.

Four hours a night without a night terror was a luxury.

The war had made it worse.

Sighing, Anakin rolled over on the small, stiff couch and stared at the bed in the center of the room. The hospital staff hadn't exactly wanted him to sleep in the room but…

Well, who could deny _the_ General Skywalker? The poster boy of the Republic army? Whom just happened to be married to their beloved Senator?

Had it been under different circumstances, it might have been hilarious to watch the team of doctors and nurses be threatened and sworn to secrecy by Sabé - oh thank goodness for her. Currently the beloved handmaiden was taking much needed rest in her apartment in the Theed Royal Palace. She kept trying to convince him to contact the Naberrie's...they deserved to know what was happening...

Anakin glanced at the bed again, feeling tears in his eyes.

There was a mess of wires snaking out from her blankets, machines bleeping in the silence, an oxygen mask fitted over his nose and mouth.

He watched her chest rise and fall, then rose into a sitting position carefully and buried his head in his hands.

He'd never been the type to pray...but right now...

Anakin turned his head, listening to his neck crack painfully. There was a small shrine to the Goddess on the window, the glass statute gleaming in the moonlight. For some reason, it looked like…Shmi.

"What do I do Mom?" he whispered, staring at the statue. "I couldn't save you...and now Padmé...I cannot lose her...we haven't even been married a year…"

He gave a shaky breath, tears falling down his face. "We wanted to live on Naboo when the war ended...raise a family...I wanted to name one of our daughter's after you...Force, Obi-Wan will be so disappointed...did you know he gave up his relationship with Duchess Kryze to be my master?"

A rough laugh escaped him. "He never told me that though...Duchess Kryze told me when Padmé and I visited Sundari a month ago. Then three weeks ago we went on a mission...Master Tachi died in his arms...Mom, I don't know how he's even still functioning."

* * *

The hospital was quiet at night. There were nurses and loved ones of patients here and there, giving double-takes while he walked down the halls. He didn't ever sleep much in hospitals.

He never slept well on this planet anyways.

Obi-Wan rubbed a crink in his neck while he walked, deciding to make a detour into the cafeteria and buy a cup of tea. He ignored the fact that he hadn't eaten a decent meal in at least a week.

He did not get far.

"Anakin?"

The young knight turned from the window he had been staring out of, gaze unfocused for a moment before he gave a tired smile. "Master."

"You're not my Padawan anymore." Obi-Wan walked closer, keeping his voice low. He glanced briefly into the room to his right, where he could sense Padmé Amidala in her drug induced...coma. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Obi-Wan?"

Anakin managed a rough laugh, his eyes bloodshot and voice hoarse. "Old habits die hard."

"Mmm." Obi-Wan joined him at the window, watching the owls flit around outside. It amazed him, how much beauty and _life_ could exist on a planet. He could nearly enjoy it...if he suppressed all the memories the planet held and focused on just this moment.

"How's the Senator?"

 _Wrong question._ Anakin winced before he could stop himself, though the speed in which he recovered his mistake was impressive. He gave a shrug, leaning - well slumping really - against the wall. "She's...okay. The Virus hit her a bit harder than everyone else."

"Well Togrutas due have exceptionally strong immune systems - and our men are conditioned too -"

"I know."

Obi-Wan pressed his lips together, looking back out the window. He watched an owl swoop down and snatch a mouse from the grass. It was morbid, the two of them watching the mouse be killed and swallowed in one gulp.

 _We're all being swallowed by this war._

"Are you prepared for the worst Anakin?"

"How's Ahsoka doing?"

"Anakin."

"Master."

Obi-Wan put a hand on his former padawan's shoulder, forcing eye contact. "I'm serious."

"So am I - I feel like a terrible master - I haven't seen Ahsoka in days."

" _Anakin..._ what's going -"

Anakin shrugged him away, taking a step back and glaring at him. "Nothing is _wrong_ Obi-Wan. Drop it okay?"

Obi-Wan frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "...Ahsoka and your men are doing well. They're keeping everyone under observation for six days, then allowing the Medi Corps to transfer everyone back to the Jedi Temple for further observation."

"Padmé is staying here."

He raised his eyebrows, but before he could press any further -

Anakin glanced at his comlink when it chirped, and gave a grim smile. "If you'll excuse me _Master Kenobi."_

"Of course Anakin." He watched the young man walk away, wondering why the hell he saw the name 'Naberrie' briefly on the screen.

* * *

 _Author's note: hello there ;)_

 _I'm quite enjoying writing this fic - it's interesting, trying to get the characterization of our lovelies in season one. Especially Obi-Wan. My God man. Seriously. xD_

 _It's always been my personal headcanon that Padmé and Satine were friends long before the Clone Wars, and thus Anakin knew her well before the Mandalorian arc (and was thus being a little shit during the entire arc because he could and it made him laugh to watch Obi-Wan squirm). Odd headcanon but oh well ;)_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


	5. Infighting

Chapter Four: Infighting

* * *

 _Hours have passed since Anakin Skywalker has contacted his in-laws. He patiently waits for them to arrive, contacting Sabé - Senator Amidala's former handmaiden and best friend - for moral support. It's a tense time, one that has everyone on edge..._

* * *

Sabé glanced between everyone in the room, knowing she should not be amused but...well...this was exactly like a bad soap opera. Everyone was so quiet, not looking at anyone but the floor. It was so incredibly uncomfortable, what was just revealed. She really should have brought a Holorecorder - this would be great tabloid bits right here.

However, she loved Padmé too much for that.

That's why she was here, in a way. To help Padmé...by standing beside Anakin Skywalker while he faced his in-laws, truly faced them, for the first time. It was strange, to think of the young Jedi as a married man terrified for his wife's life. She kept imagining the little scared, shivering boy in a ship, even though she had one of the first - well, the first human sentient - to learn about the marriage. Well, the engagement too. If she kept thinking about it, she would remember that her name - Captain Typho's too - was on the marriage license as witnesses. Those droids had only gone in their place.

She leaned back against the wall when the silence became too much, glancing at everyone. _Someone has to talk._

"Well this is exciting," she said to no one in particular.

General Skywalker tossed a glare at her, which she answered with a raise of her eyebrows. He eventually sighed, not able to force himself into a proper sitting position. It was surreal, how incredibly young and _terrified_ he looked.

"You...married my daughter...without telling us?" Ruwee Naberrie - tired, shocked, confused - stared at his...well. His son-in-law.

"Mé-Mé was the one who did not want to tell -"

"My daughter does not keep secrets!"Jobal let her eyes glance down to the young Jedi's hands - the flesh one, not the creepy cybernetic - where a wedding band gleamed. She shook her head as if to clear the image from her mind, and continued to pace. "She abhors secrets."

"You don't know your daughter very well - secrets are a politicians trade," Anakin muttered, a wry smile twisting at his lips.

Ruwee scowled, leaning forward in his seat, elbows on his knees. "And _you_ know my daughter better?"

"Daddy," Sola murmured, rubbing at her temples. She had slumped in the private waiting room chair the moment the General had given the horrible news about Senator Amidala, and had not spoken a word since.

General Skywalker shrugged, a bit of a feral gleam in his eyes. "I would hope a husband knows his wife better than her father. It'd be a bit weird if it was the other way around.."

Sabé turned her head, avoiding Gregar's eye and trying not to snort. Her actions, however, had not gone unnoticed.

"You two knew about this?!"

"We trusted you!"

Gregar met the eyes of the Naberrie elders, raising his eyebrows a bit. "Senator Amidala is my employer - to divulge her private life, even to family, in any way, would void our vow to protect her interests."

"Let's not forget that she threatened all of us with utter financial ruin and a possible assassination," Sabé chirped, watching General Skywalker grimace out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh right - there's that."

"She did _what?"_ Jobal pressed a hand to her chest. "My sweet daughter -"

"Ruled a planet whose wars are waged by poison, whose history is shaped around infidelity, and whose gods are tricksters." General Skywalker gave a small smile while he stood, his shoulders slumping. "Do you want to visit Mé-Mé or not?"

Whatever Sola Naberrie was expecting when she walked into the hospital room...it wasn't _that._

 _That_ was _not_ her little girl, who was so fiercely independent, almost hilariously so. That was not Padmé, bound to a bed and breathing only through the support of oxygen. That was _not Padmé,_ who had a husband gingerly sitting down in the seat beside the bed, reaching over to brush hair away from her face.

She swallowed hard, feeling her husband wrap an arm around her. "So when...when will she wake up?"

Anakin shrugged, feeling tears gather in his eyes and trying to blink them away. "She...flatlined before you came...it...no one has any idea. It's just…"

"Wait and see." Sola sighed, stepping around her parents and walking to the bed. She put a hand on Anakin's shoulder, looking down at her little sister. "She's a tough cookie, Ani."

"Mmm hmm."

Ruwee cleared his throat. "You know...Padme had pneumonia once...it was pretty bad."

"Her blood went septic after Geonosis - that was pretty bad." Anakin smirked a little. "I lost half my arm, millions of people died - that was pretty bad."

"Are you trying to antagonize me?" Ruwee asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Are you trying to be a dick?"

" _Excuse me?_ I could have you removed -"

Anakin raised his eyebrows, his voice low and scathing. "Then do it."

Ruwee blinked, taking a step backwards. "What?"

"Remove me - from the room, the hospital, the planet." Anakin shrugged. "I could easily tell the Chancellor - I hardly doubt -"

"Stop it, all of you." Sola glanced between everyone, realizing the lights were flickering in the room in time to her brother-in-law's breathing. She squeezed Anakin's shoulder again, staring her parents down. "Padmé wouldn't want us fighting."

* * *

" _You have learned nothing then?"_

Obi-Wan sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "Unfortunately, no. The staff of Senator Amidala remained amazingly tight-lipped while we were at the Royal Theed Hospital."

The hologram of Mace Windu leaned forward in his Council Seat on Coruscant. " _And Skywalker?"_

"You have better luck kissing a gundark."

Luminara Unduli smiled a little. " _You should have no trouble with that Obi-Wan - you are called the Negotiator."_

" _Only because 'the Flirt' sounds less intimidating,"_ Depa Billaba murmured, trying to hide her giggle.

" _Depa…"_ Mace muttered in exasperation, though he - and the rest of the Council members - seemed bemused by the quips.

Obi-Wan raised his eyes at his old creche-mates, then shook his head in amusement before continuing. "I apologize I could not find out more, Masters - I can try to continue my quest, though I am not sure how far I will get."

" _Acknowledged."_ Yoda placed his hands on his knees, staring Obi-Wan down. " _Your men? Padawan Tano? How fare they?"_

"Best they can - some of them have space sickness, but given that Naboo isn't far from Coruscant - they should stabilize once we reach Coruscant Medical." Obi-Wan frowned while the Council members glanced at each other. "What?"

Kit Fisto tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair. " _We want you to leave the clones and Padawan Tano on the nearest medical station...and for you to come back to Coruscant."_

"Beg pardon?"

" _They're not cleared - and Bant Eerin wishes to study them, to ensure they're stable in a few days."_

" _We want to keep this affair quiet, Master Kenobi...and away from the ears of the Chancellor and the public."_ Kolar cocked his head. " _Unless you disagree?"_

"Is there any room to disagree?" Obi-Wan murmured, attempting to smile. He bowed while the Council fizzled, and leaned heavily against the holoprojector. Closing his eyes, he listened to the whirs and clunks of the cruiser.

"This is...interesting...Master Qui-Gon...I don't know what to do."

* * *

Sic days. That was how long it took for his dear wife to blearily awaken. She had been showing movement for three days - a twitch of her fingers, eyes moving, a grimace when her IV was changed or her blood was drawn. Her vitals were still low, her body still weak...well, no one knew exactly what would happen when she awoke. What she would be like.

Anakin didn't care.

He just wanted her alive.

He kept a hand over hers, leaving only on occasion - really, when the staff kicked him out to perform tests or someone - Gregar or Sabe - bodily dragged him away for a shower and a meal.

It was late at night when Padme blinked awake, giving a small groan. The oxygen mask had been removed, replaced by a tube. She wrinkled her nose, looking at the ceiling.

He knew he looked like a mess, but that didn't matter.

Padme was _alive._ He squeezed her hand gently, smiling when she turned her head and gave him a puzzled look. "Ani? What?..."

"You feeling okay?"

"Mmm...mmm."

"You commissioned to have Jar-Jar trained in defense arts."

"I did what?" Padme murmured, scrunching up her face at him. "Fuck."

She drew out the word comically, and Anakin had a hard time not busting up laughing. He used his bionic hair to smooth her hair away from her face, feeling her clammy and pale skin. "That's not a very Senator Amidala thing to say."

* * *

"Blue Shadow Virus, huh?"

Obi-Wan glanced up, cracking a tired smile at the person before him. "Quinlan - back from the depths of the Underworld."

"Very funny, Kenobi."

"I think so." Obi-Wan rose, accepting the offered embrace. "It's good to see you, old friend."

"You as well, Obes."

"When will you stop using that name?"

"When you stop reacting to it." Quinlan observed the mess of datapads on the library table, the sheets of flimsi, and the bags under his friend's eyes before frowning. "This is how you're spending your leave while you wait for your padawans to come back on-planet?"

"I'm making lesson plans - I do teach classes, Quinlan. We all do.."

"Uh huh - you're going out tonight and getting shitfaced. Garen is getting debriefed, he -"

"Yeah...yeah, I'll wait around."

Quinlan sat down, sighing heavily. He kept his voice low. "Obi-Wan...I heard about Siri -"

"Quin -"

"That's why we're all here Obes - to be at her funeral next week...and to support you."

"That's very kind of you but -"

Quinlan put a hand over his friend's forearm. "You loved her...we all did, in our own way.

"Can we just skip straight to tonight, Quinlan? I don't particularly crave conversation right now?"

Quinlan raised his eyebrows before grinning. "Sure - whose apartment?"

* * *

 _Author's note: the idea that Naboo's history and wars are shrouded in secrecy intrigues me so much. It's a headcanon i hold dearly - and makes sense, given Padme and Sheev's personality's. I also really, really love the idea that Padme's parents weren't that close to her, and it was Sola that mainly raised her. It just makes sense, as who in the right mind would allow their pre-teen to be groomed into politics? Obviously people who were involved somehow in Nubian politics._

 _I love Sabe, and the smart-ass way fandom has depicted her warms my heart. I'm so happy I can include her in this fic :D_

 _Yes, I'm aware that Depa was in a coma early in the Clone Wars - it's still early in the Clone Wars. She'll probably end up in a coma sometime in this fic._

 _Ahh, Obes. The most pansexual Jedi ever. ;)_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


	6. Your Point?

Chapter Five: Your Point?

* * *

 _Senator Amidala begins to slowly, slowly improve from her near brush with death. It's still unclear how much damage her body has sustained, though everyone counts it as a blessing that she is alive and awake. Meanwhile at the Jedi Temple, the halls are quiet while news of Siri Tachi's death spreads and they prepare for her funeral..._

* * *

"You always have the most interesting stories Padmé."

" _You do not?"_

"You are currently sitting in a hospital recovering from an eradicated disease - how's that not an interesting story?"

The hologram of Padmé Amidala laughed, which was cut short by a hacking cough. She held a fist to her chest, head bent while she gasped for air. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Even through the hologram is was possible to hear the machines beeping rapidly in the hospital.

Satine swallowed, watching her friend struggle to breathe. It was incredibly sad, looking at the fiercely independent Senator rely on a breathing and feeding tubes and goddesses knew what else - she wasn't a medical expert.

She had gone to university for performing arts, for goodness sakes. She never was supposed to become the _Duchess of Mandalore._

From somewhere in the hospital room, there were footsteps. Anakin Skywalker sat carefully on the bed, giving a small wave to the holo before easing his wife into his side, handing her a rag and grimacing while she coughed into it.

"Lovely to see you Anakin," Satine murmured when the coughing had subsided.

Padmé smiled a bit, dropping the rag onto her lap and leaning her head against her husband's shoulder. Her exhale of exhaustion was heard through the holo.

Anakin was frowning at the rag, then at the machines that were keeping his wife alive. He eventually shook himself, and glanced her way. " _Satine - you look ravishing as always."_

Satine raised her eyebrows, glancing down at her formal court robes - all flowing skirts and modest lines and opals sewn in. Not for the first time, she wondered how an apprentice of _Obi-Wan Kenobi_ could be such a bad flirter. Nevertheless, she gave a smile. "I have to holo-into a Confederacy Senate hearing in an hour - I must look my best. Dignified."

" _You're gonna try to reason with those animals?"_

" _Ani,"_ Padmé murmured.

* * *

"How are you faring?" Mace Windu asked quietly while they walked through the quiet halls of the Temple. His concern evident on his face, a rare feat for him.

Adi rubbed at the band around her wrist - really, Siri Tachi's padawan braid. "How can one dare feel well when they lose the child they raised?"

"Mmm."

"Oh hush - you'd be a reck if you lost Depa - ah don't deny it." She smirked when he closed his mouth and gave a sigh.

"Maybe I would be - but unlike Kenobi and Vos I would not be drowning myself in drink and intercourse."

"Can you blame them?" Adi watched a pair of young padawans jostling a pile of course materials race down the hall, both of them throwing sheepish looks over their shoulders. She felt the smirk from her face falter. "To be young again."

"Garen should be on planet soon," Mace murmured, gesturing to a window for then to stand at. He kept his voice low. "He should able to calm those idiots down."

"You're so sympathetic."

"Adi."

"Those five were thick as thieves growing up - even Luminara and your Depa would be lured into their shenanigans from time to time."

Mace stared out the window, where the traffic of Coruscant was beginning to pick up - the morning commute was starting, after all. In the dim light he looked incredibly, incredibly old. Sad too, and very tired. Shoulders slumped, he murmured, "I never thought I would say those were the easy days."

Adi forced a laugh, putting a hand on her long time friend's arm. "Qui-Gon's probably laughing in his grave right now."

"Because we're wishing for the days were Kenobi would climb to the top of the Temple high and Vos would film?"

"Not the worse thing they ever did."

Mace leaned against the frame, tapping his fingers against his arm. "Bant and Fisto are escorting those affected by the Virus back to Coruscant by the end of the week. They'll be quarantined here until further notice."

"We lost another didn't we?"

"One of the younger clones - hadn't even gotten a name yet."

"Tizzy would make it a requirement they all had names if she could," Adi whispered, referring to the Togruta Jedi master.

"Heard from Skywalker?"

"No...have you?"

Mace shook his head. "He's basically off the grid - submitted his reports, commanding his men from Naboo - not answering any comms though. Senator Amidala, from what we've been told, is taking a leave of absence."

"You don't think she...still has the Virus -"

"God, I hope not. We cannot afford to lose her... she's one of the few people who can keep Palpatine in line."

* * *

" _...what part of 'neut_ _ral' do you not understand Senator?!"_

" _A true Mandalorian would not shy away from fighting the Republic - especially when Jetti are involved!"_

" _You forget she has a soft spot for Jetti - only reason she's still alive!"_

On the Separatist floor - broadcasted through remote channels all over the galaxy - the hologram of Duchess Satine Kryze slammed her hand down. The sound, or perhaps the violent action, silenced those whom were bickering. She glared around at everyone, a snarl on her face. " _My system will continue to trade with_ all _factions of this damned galaxy - war or no war!"_

"Looks like she hasn't lost her fire," Quinlan murmured, leaning his arms against the couch.

" _Like we want Mandalorian goods!"_ Someone shouted.

" _The galactic economy is in shambles - you would not survive without our metals - Separatist or Republic."_

" _We'll -"_

Obi-Wan sighed, pressing the holo on mute and leaning back in the armchair. He traced the figure of the Mandalorian Duchess for a moment with his eyes, then turned it off. Listening to the stations had been a good idea when he couldn't sleep the previous night...well, until he got memorized by the woman he had once thought of marrying and having a family with.

Fingers brushed the nape of his neck. Titling his head back, he raised his eyebrows. "Yes?"

"You look like shit."

"Well thank you," Obi-Wan muttered dryly. "I thought I looked rather dashing."

Quinlan gave a hard snort, pressing his brow against Obi-Wan's, eyes - though a little sad - were twinkling. "Well considering you've slept with half the galaxy and the enemy..."

Chuckling, Obi-Wan shoved his friend's face and stood. The living room of his apartment was still dark, the only light coming from the slow rising sun filtering between the curtains. "Ventress was a one time thing - I wouldn't expect _you_ to understand."

"You slept with a _Mandalorian_ for _how many years?"_ Quinlan asked, then rolled his eyes when his friend - now rifling furiously through the cupboards. "Sure, don't answer me."

"Kriff you." Obi-Wan extracted what he was looking for - a bottle of whiskey and his container of Sapnir tea - and grinned. "Care for a drink, Quin?"

"It's not even noon Obes."

Obi-Wan turned around from setting the kettle. "Your point?"

* * *

 _Author's note: hello there ;)_

 _It didn't take long for Satine to make an appearance, now did it? I couldn't help myself - you guys should know that by now._

 _Enjoy this chapter, and I'll see you guys soon_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii._


	7. About the Future

Chapter Six: About the Future...

* * *

 _Master Siri Tachi's funeral fast approaching, and with it much change. Padmé Amidala is to be moved to Coruscant, Ahsoka Tano is to soon be fully recovered...but the day of the funeral itself brings an unexpected guest..._

* * *

"Here."

Anakin stared blearily at the styrofoam cup that was held in front of his nose, then stared at the person that was offering it. He forced a smile, taking the cup carefully and taking a sip. "Fuck that's hot."

"It came straight from the cafeteria."

"You could have told me that."

"You could be smarter, yet here we are." Sabé sat down beside him, crossing her legs and nudging his shoulder. "She's gonna be okay."

"What if she isn't?"

"What if she is?"

He sighed, glancing at the doors thirty feet from them. Given that Padmé was being transferred to Coruscant medical in two days, the surgical team had decided to remove her feeding tube, which unfortunately meant yet another surgery. It was a harmless procedure - but still...he knew the risks...what could happen if the hole refused to close and the contents of the stomach continued to leak into the bloodstream after two weeks.

"You spend too much time worrying about the future."

"You don't?"

Sabé shrugged, taking his caf he was still holding loosely in his hand. "Distracts from the present Skywalker - a bad idea for a bodyguard."

"Yeah...yeah, Obi-Wan used to say something like that."

"Did he now?" She did her best not to make a face - like Anakin noticed really - and sipped at the caf. "You heading back to Coruscant for the Jedi funeral next week?"

"I'll...well, provided that Padmé is on track to leave, then yes."

"Have they figured out what exactly Padmé has or -"

Anakin scratched at his chin, feeling rough stubble beneath his fingertips. "Sort of...the Reeska root acts kind of like chemo - doesn't kill it, but puts it into remission. But given that the Virus was airborne and I poisoned my own wife with a nightshade - it basically triggered a mass response in her autoimmune system."

"Explain in stupid."

" _Funny."_ He looked towards the doors again, twisting at his wedding ring. "She is recessive gene carrier for several autoimmune diseases...the Virus triggered all of them."

"Oh my god...and there's no -"

"Maybe? We don't know...she's seems to be improving...I have to get genetic counseling too...umm." He let out a harsh sigh, pressing his palm into his brow. "We're meeting with a fertility specialist before we leave - doing, uh - things."

Sabé swallowed hard, and leaned her head against his shoulder. "She'll be okay - modern medicine is pretty good."

"There's a bacta shortage -"

"You two live on Coruscant."

* * *

"Master Kenobi can you _please_ help me escape?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, glancing at the clone captain before setting the class materials down beside the bed. "You have four more days, Ahsoka - I'm plenty sure you can survive."

"I'm bored."

"You're still coughing up blood."

"Only a little - it's mostly green now."

"That is too much information Commander."

Ahsoka scowled, throwing a pillow at the clone captain and rolling her eyes when he caught it. Out of all of the people affected by the Virus - well, besides Padmé Amidala - they were the only ones left in the Healing Halls.

She was, for lack of a better term, feeling trapped and restless and _bored._

"Four days - plenty of time to catch up on your homework." Obi-Wan was not blind to the scowl that he received, and busied himself around the area. "Need anything? Tea, more blankets?"

"Your password to that subscription service?" Rex asked wryly, leaning on his pillows and chuckling at the look he was given. "Fine, I'll ask General Vos - I know you two share it."

Confused by the conversation, Ahsoka pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "Can you get some actual food for us? Something that's not crappy -"

"I heard that!" came the voice of Madame Vokra while she passed. "You may!"

"Bacon?" Ahsoka called back.

"Lean meats, Padawan Tano- lean!"

"Croissant?" Rex shouted.

"Unbuttered!"

Obi-Wan smiled, settling a hand on the padawan's shoulder. "Cheer up - you're healing fine, given what you've been through."

"How's Senator Amidala doing General?"

"Hmm? Oh, I presume she's fine. Nubians are probably just taking extra precautions."

* * *

He remembered the first time a Jedi had died - well, he more of felt it. He couldn't have been more than three or four then, still in the clans, unawares of the hard life outside the walls of the Temple. How dangerous. How utterly pointless what he learned really was.

The Temple didn't prepare him for the galaxy. The real, wonderfully horrible galaxy they all lived in.

It was quiet, walking towards the steps of the Temple. Surreal. He remembered leaving these steps only a few short years ago.

What did you even wear to your former master's funeral? Ferus glanced down at his army fatigues, feeling his Jedi cloak hit his ankles with every step and his lightSabé r click against his hip.

Beside him, Roan squeezed his hand.

Oh yeah - do you bring your husband to a Jedi funeral?

Ferus let out a long held breath, squaring his shoulders and looking straight ahead. He didn't need an introduction or to announce himself - the Temple guards knew who he was. Managing a smile, he nodded to each of them while they passed.

"Holy shit," Roan muttered while they walked in. He gazed around, staring at the high ceilings and white pillars. "You never told me it was this - "

"Ferus Olin?"

 _Shit._

Ferus turned his head, his surprise flickering onto his face. He had seen the holos, seen the man from afar but - wow. What a thing a few years, a padawan, a war, and probably an ill-hid affair with a certain Senator could do to someone.

"Anakin - long time no see."

"Yeah...you're looking well." Up close, Anakin Skywalker look like shit. Sure he had filled out, become a man instead of a boy, stood firmly on his feet - but he looked haggard and tired, barely able to keep a smile on his face when he shook Ferus' hand. "Wish we could have met again under different circumstances - I heard your firm was doing okay. I keeping meaning to drag my padawan to it."

 _Who the hell let him teach?_ Ferus gave a smile, and gestured to his husband. "This is my husband Roan."

"Fast found a husband huh?"

"Sorry - I must have burnt your invitation."

"Pleasant as always Ferus - the Temple doesn't miss you."

"Well the one person who did is dead so...tough."

Roan cleared his throat, glancing between them. "Shall we proceed? I would hate to miss something so few have the privilege of viewing - circumstances withstanding of course."

* * *

Adi Gallia was the first to notice them enter. She nudged Master Eerin beside her, whose eyes widened in shock.

A slow quiet filled the large chamber. It was eerie, how many people were becoming awares of him. There was Master Kenobi of course, standing around Master Vos and Master Muln. Masters Luminara and Biblia were near them, with Masters Fisto and Secura leaning into each other. The Council and Madame Nu was there of course, most of the generation that Tachi and Qui-Gon had grown up with too. A small Togruta was there too, standing beside a pale look Senator Amidala. He refused to let his eyes linger on the still, dead body of Siri Tachi in the center of the room.

"I brought a guest," Ferus managed, finding himself looking at Master Yoda and Windu. He raised the hand that was joined with his husband, very clearly revealing his wedding band. "Hope you don't mind."

"I think they'll make an exception," Anakin muttered wryly in his ear while passing, walking towards the assembled.

Master Yoda raised his bushy eyebrows while he hobbled towards them. He folded his hands over his cane, staring up at them. With a sigh he beckoned Ferus to kneel.

"Master Yoda?"

"Truly your master's padawan, you are," Yoda murmured, putting an arthritic hand on Ferus' knee. "Late you were - send _Skywalker_ we had to, to retrieve you."

Ferus couldn't help but laugh a little, the tears coming to his eyes. He wiped at them quickly, remembering Yoda's many lectures about showing emotions and being surprised when the aged master only smiled sadly.

"Grieve, you should - but let go, when you must."

* * *

 _Author's note: hello there, my dears :D_

 _The aftermath of the funeral next chapter - so sad, but I needed Ferus in here. I really did. This fic wouldn't be complete without him. Maybe I'll squeeze in Satine somehow...some Cody too ;)_

 _Enjoy and prepare for feels. Mmm, so many feels. I enjoy making myself sad with the pain of fictional characters_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


	8. Unexpected Guests

Chapter Seven: Unexpected Guests

* * *

 _The funeral of Siri Tachi ends, her friends gather with their guest to celebrate her memory and life. The days drag into weeks, and while Obi-Wan grieves for his friend and once lover, the Naberrie-Skywalker home faces an unexpected development…_

* * *

"...I thought you were a dick."

"Well you certainly liked mine."

 _That_ comment made the Jedi surrounding them chuckle, easing in their seats. Roan shook his head at his husband's comment, moving his hand over his and smiling.

The bar around them was quiet this time of night - somewhere in Coco Town, as Master Kenobi had suggested. Ferus had been here a few times, as a young kid. He remembered the owner vaguely. It was a little weird, being so open about his marriage around monks who fucked anyone who was willing.

Well - Anakin probably didn't engage in such activities. The guy looked terrible, and he had a suspicion the one drink of watered-down ale wasn't helping.

"I'm really surprised, Ferus." Aayla Secura, leaning into the wall at the end of the booth, reached over and took Kit Fisto's drink from his hand. "We were hesitant to invite you - Garen was the one who insisted."

"Only so Bant would stop making me feel guilty," Garen grumbled into his sugar fries. "I do apologise Ferus - Jedi funerals are incredibly exclusive."

"Oh I remember that well." Ferus shrugged, taking a drink of his beer. "Master Obi-Wan - you did well on the speech."

Obi-Wan Kenobi, whom had been silently staring into space and nursing a bourbon, only responded when Quinlan nudged him. He jumped, the bourbon splashing onto his hand. Grimacing, he took a wad of napkins offered by Adi Gallia.

Everyone - everyone the Jedi - glanced at each other.

"Obes?" Bant touched his arm, her eye contact never wavering. "Ferus spoke."

"Hmm?"

"Your speech - it was nice. Heartfelt."

Obi-Wan managed a smile, tossing the napkins into the empty trays that once held their food. "Mmm...thank you."

"I heard you're in the war effort Ferus?" Luminara spoke quietly, brushing a bit of sugar from her habit. She didn't react much when Depa reached over and helped her, merely nodding her thanks.

"I am - Roan and I are civilian officers. Mostly based here on Coruscant, though we do have an office we operate out of off-planet."

"Must be nice, not being on the front-lines," Anakin muttered. "Don't have to worry about getting shot at every other -"

"No - I just have to worry about fiances, paying employees, keeping the the electricity on, medical insurance - things you don't have to -"

Anakin stood, nearly upsetting the table. His voice was a growl, silencing the occupants of the table and diner. "Do not assume, Ferus Olin, that I do not understand the responsibilities of life."

He pulled his cloak from the back of his chair, stalking away before anyone could say anything.

Ferus blinked, then glanced at those around the table.

No one was heading after Anakin.

 _Huh._

That must be new. There was always some chasing after the damn man - usually, the ginger-haired master before him that should have stopped drinking five drinks ago.

"... Luminara?" Aayla smiled a bit when the attention of the table turned to her. "I heard you're teaching at the local college? What's that like?"

* * *

"Okay - what are hiding?"

Anakin frowned, pushing himself out from underneath the shuttle he'd been repairing and finding himself staring at boots. He frowned, letting his gaze travel upwards and managing a small smile. "Aayla - what -"

Aayla, wearing a dress and no lekku harness, rolled her eyes. "You've been worse than Obi-Wan these past two weeks -"

"Obi-Wan hasn't been sober - pretty sure I'm better than -"

"You're at the Temple to teach your classes or attend necessary meetings, then you're away."

Anakin rose to a sitting position, staring at his gloves and grimacing at the oil on them. "Look Aayla," he pulled the gloves off carefully, glancing at R2 rolling up and beeping. "We all have our private lives - do I ask about you and Kit?"

"I've never made it a secret, unlike you with the Senator…" Aayla let her jaw drop a little when he held a hand in defeat and revealed his wedding band. "Oh...wow…"

"It isn't an illicit affair, as your Master so kindly puts it." Anakin reached out a hand and patted R2's dome. He smiled at the forlorn beep he received, and glanced around the Temple hangar. It was quiet this time of evening - just about everyone on day missions had come back, filing into the various cafeterias or into the several restaurants on Coruscant.

A weight felt lifted from his shoulders from telling someone - even if it was a Jedi.

But he trusted Aayla - always had, with anything. She _understood._ A former slave to a former slave. Noticing how the clones were effectively slaves, realizing the slaver tactics the Jedi used on occasion to keep knights thinking of leaving in line...giving responsibilities like training a padawan…

Much like how slavers encouraged slaves to _breed,_ to keep them in line. To keep responsibilities there.

He sighed, looking at Aayla when she sat down beside him. "Did Obi-Wan send you?"

She snorted. "I'm not sure if he can string a coherent thought together right now - Quinlan is in his rooms right now, swiping all the liquor. Hopefully saving his liver."

"Then - "

"Ever since the Blue Shadow Virus you've looked like you're running on adrenaline stims and caf alone - Senator Amidala doesn't look much better."

Anakin opened his mouth to answer, then closed it and shook his head. "It's... don't really want to talk about it."

A shuttle hummed somewhere near the entrance, and they turned their heads. The hum became a clunk, and a green shuttle chortled onto a platform.

"Maybe you can convince Kit to trade that horrible clunker in," Aayla grumbled while she stood. "Oh Anakin?"

"Yeah?"

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Obi-Wan is more understanding than you give him credit for - talk to him."

"Talk to the emotionally stunted man? Great advice - you should become a motivational speaker."

"I'm serious - he's not all swooshy hair and sage advice - everyone had a past, including him."

Anakin raised his eyebrows, not saying anything while she squeezed his shoulder and strode away. He watched while she approached the shuttle, greeting the Natoloan Council member. It wasn't a surprise to watch Kit swing Aayla in a way that was definitely not Jedi approved, and listening to their laughter.

He stared at his hands, where his wedding band gleamed. He'd only been in the hangar because Padmé had meetings tonight - by the time he wove through traffic, she'd probably be home.

"Come on R2."

* * *

"Sir."

"Gregor - can it wait till morning?" Anakin muttered, tugging his boots off in the foyer. He could imagine the feel of his bed already, the comforting breathing of his wife beside him. R2 whirred into the kitchen, chirping gleefully at a startled C-3PO. "I'm exhausted."

"I suppose…" Gregor looked uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot in the living room. "I'm not sure if you'll like the outcome though…"

"I'll take my chances - any update on Padmé?"

Typho rubbed at his neck, watching the younger man shrug off his cloak. "Okay - felt relatively okay, last I knew."

"Good - she had bit of a migraine this morning - night Gregor."

"Night sir…"

Anakin yawned , nodding to one of the handmaidens - Teckla - while he walked down the hallway. "She asleep?"

"Maybe - I didn't pry."

He bit back a sigh - though the young woman was a saint, Teckla was always hesitant to divulge any information or speak out of turn. With a smile he stepped passed her and into the bedroom.

"Still have a migraine," Padmé grumbled while he shed his tunics and stepped into sleepwear. She rose on her elbow, rubbing at her brow and grimacing. Her curls escaped from its two braids in a few places. "I was supposed to tell you something…"

Anakin managed a smile - the cognitive problems were certainly an adjustment. He slid into bed, rubbing a hand over her hip. "It can wait."

* * *

For once he slept peacefully - probably because he was so utterly exhausted by life. Did he sleep for eight or nine hours? Of course not. But it was restful, and when he did rise, the bed was empty and the apartment was alive.

He yawned, glancing at the chrono. _5:30am._

Not bad.

The hallway was quiet - everyone must have been in the kitchen or still sleeping.

Gregor was in the hallway, glancing between the threshold and the hallway. "Sir -" he muttered.

"What -" Anakin backpedaled at whom he saw in the kitchen, taking the captain into the hallway. "Why the hell is my father-in-law here?"

Gregar raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Sir, I meant to tell you - he came last night -"

"Last night? But I - "

"You came home late and ignored me - remember?"

"I had conducted three atmosphere flight- procedures with padawans, excuse me for wanting to sleep." Anakin peered back into the kitchen, where his wife was talking to her father. Her gaze flicked upwards, though she barely made eye contact before continuing to speak. Sighing quietly, he stepped back into the hallway.

"Sir, just be nice - "

"Or what? He'll take me to court for marrying his daughter?"

"If you're admitting to coercing my daughter into a marriage, Master Skywalker, please say it a bit louder."

Anakin grimaced at the captain, who clapped him on the back while he passed into the kitchen. He refused to look cowed and managed a smile at his father-in-law - hard to do when he was wearing an oversized Smash Ball t-shirt and sleep pants.

"Ruwee - sorry I missed you last night. No one told me you were coming."

"A surprise visit - even Padmé didn't know." Ruwee sipped at his caf. "I'm sorry you were shocked."

"Mmm - morning Angel," Anakin murmured, bending down to kiss his wife and smiling a bit triumphantly when she touched his jaw before pulling away.

Ruwee didn't say anything, too busy watching the soft smile on his daughter's face - a far cry from the coolness he had seen the past decade whenever they spoke.

"Ruwee?"

He glanced over to where Anakin was fixing a fresh pot of caf, a little peeved that he wasn't addressed as sir -

But what man would address anyone formally in his own...home.

"Hmm?"

"Want anything particular for breakfast?"

"...don't you have servants?"

Anakin glanced at the chrono, then stepped away from the caf maker. "We do - but I do most of the cooking when I'm on planet."

"Really?" Ruwee raised his eyebrows while the Jedi knight - his son-in-law - Anakin - dumped out a pile of pills from an organizer. He swallowed hard when Anakin reached over and pressed the pills into Padmé's hand.

"Thank you - Dad, what were - "

"What the hell are those for?"

"To keep her from dying - " Anakin replied dryly while Padmé spoke.

"Muscle relaxer, migraine preventer, two anti-inflammatories, anti-nausea, heart rate stabilizer, antishstime, immunosuppressant -"

"You take all of those? Every day?"

Padmé gave a sad smile before taking the pills. "These are just the morning pills Daddy."

"... what?"

"I'm making waffles - Padmé, we have everything?"

"We should," she muttered, clearing her throat when she finished swallowing. "That migraine one tastes horrible."

"They changed the dosage right?"

"Mmm hmm - oh Ani, Coruscant Medical commed. Your implant can be replaced anytime this week."

Anakin nodded, slamming down the skillet and using the Force to flick it on while he opened a cupboard to gather ingredients.

"... implant?" Ruwee asked quietly, not quite wanting to know.

"... epilepsy inhibitor." Anakin managed a shrug. "I have Focal Epilepsy and experience all types of seizures associated with the condition. The implant is used because I cannot maintain a pill regime as a Jedi."

"...oh. Of course."

* * *

 _Author's note: mmm. I wrote this chapter in response to two ideas._

 _One: earlier this March, Dr. Phil said that 100 out of 100 interbodied relationships fail. He claims with his 'expert' that a relationship that involves caregiving, whether there is a carer or the partner is the primary caregiver, fail. Which is absolute bullshit. The rates of separation or divorce for interabled relationships are the same as able-bodied relationships._

 _That being said…_

 _Two: I do believe, as a disabled person myself, that the spouses/partners/family of people with disabilities need some sort of support system. I've witnessed relatives and partners over the years struggle watching me suffer with my health, and it is difficult for them (albiet on a much lower scale)._

 _Okay. Those are my two cents._

 _Anakin baby - please let Aayla in._

 _Obi-Wan - for the love of God, stop drinking your poor liver._

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


	9. What To Do?

Chapter Seven: What To Do?

* * *

 _Ruwee Naberrie begins his stay in the Naberrie-Skywalker home, making the apartment tense. Meanwhile, the Senate prepares for a recess while Ahsoka continues to excel at her studies..._

* * *

"You're an idiot."

"Amazing - should I ring the holos, tell him the Crown Prince of Alderaan insulted a Jedi?"

Bail rolled his eyes, well aware that the Jedi master was snorting into his tea that was probably laced with whiskey. _It wasn't even 8am_. "Amazing that no one has killed you with that mouth."

"Well they have tried." Obi-Wan grinned, setting his tea down. "My friendship appears to be magic and save me every time."

"Your friendship." Bail scoffed, glancing around the banquet hall and watching various senators and aides wander in. He leaned back in his seat. "Three more weeks and recess begins."

"Just in time for your anniversary right?"

Bail nodded, listening to Obi-Wan stand - the man was acting as a bodyguard for the meeting today - and glanced toward the doors when it opened and -

"That's Ruwee Naberrie."

"Hmm?" Obi-Wan spun on his heel, eyebrows raised when he spotted Ruwee Naberrie walking behind Senator Amidala. Weird, how over a month later the senator still looked horrible. She was pale, tired, not speaking as quickly, spending more time in the Nubian Embassy than the Senate floor.

 _But Ruwee Naberrie…_

"Can he even be in here?" Obi-Wan asked, taking the cloak that had been draped over his chair and shrugging it on.

"Technically he's an advisor to the crown - a leftover from her reign as queen." Bail managed a smile when the pair approached them, standing and stretching out a hand. "Long time no see Ser."

"Your Highness - you look well...considering your circumstances. My apologies."

Padmé grimaced, stepping over to Obi-Wan and giving him a quick embrace before sitting. Just for a moment her face was twisted in pain before it smoothed.

The smile faltered from Bail's face, though he recovered quickly and removed his hand from the older man's. "Thank you - I'll give my wife your regards."

"Daddy," Padmé muttered, laying down her papers beside Bail's. Was it Obi-Wan's imagination, or was she wearing wrists braces beneath her sleeves? "Please."

"What?"

"Have you met Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Bail offered, glancing around the room and realizing the meeting would begin soon. _Thank goddesses._

"I've met your padawan. He's certainly a character."

Obi-Wan nearly glanced at Padmé, but he could imagine the look on her face. "Well that's an understatement Ser - now if you excuse me, I'll take my post."

* * *

"I do believe she would benefit from a second lightsaber - she's good."

"She'll get cocky."

Snorting, Aayla reached over and ruffled his hair. He batted her hand away, though still looked amused. Settling her arms back on the banister, she continued to watch Ahsoka Tano and Caleb Dume train under the watchful eye of Mace Windu. Though Aayla and Anakin had come to the dojo with the intent to train before they went to dinner, watching this was far more amusing.

"She's around Obi-Wan and you often enough - she'll be cocky regardless."

Anakin shook his head, watching Mace halt the scrimmage below and help Caleb adjust his stance. He remembered being that young, being an obnoxious to Mace when the elder tried to correct his form. Oh, to go back and be a little less of a dick.

Mace muttered something, which was intelligible to their ears but made Caleb laugh.

"Think Mace will Caleb as a padawan?" Aayla asked, waving back at Ahsoka when she caught them watching.

"I don't know - from what I hear, Mace was pretty adamant that Depa was his last one." He gave her a sidelong glance. "Why? You want to train Caleb?"

"He's not a bad kid," Aayla muttered with a shrug. "Though I did want Ahsoka."

A hissing sound distracted them momentarily - Mace had ignited his lightsaber. It was him against Caleb and Ahsoka. The purple lightsaber gave his eyes a feral gleam, which matched his small grin while they circled him.

"Blame Obi-Wan for that one." Anakin winced while Caleb tried to charge Mace, only to be shoved to the floor by a Force push.

Ahsoka was slower, using the momentary distraction to attempt a disarmament. Mace sidestepped and blocked, causing the blades to screech together.

They watched the scrimmage, grimacing in sympathy when Mace knocked Caleb down - and Caleb stayed down, surrendering. They'd been there. They knew what it was like, the point in your training where Mace Windu made it known he could still kick your ass.

"What the -" Anakin leaned forward, watching his padawan slide into Soresu form. He frowned, knowing she aborred that form. It was -

Mace saw an opening, and smirked.

Ahsoka let him come, keeping herself open -

Then she rolled beneath him, coming to his side and pointing her lightsaber at his neck.

There was silence, save for the trio's heavy breathing.

The sound of metal crunching and made Anakin glance at his hands, realizing his bionic hand had been grasping the bar too tightly. He released it quickly, meeting Aayla's stunned gaze.

"Motherfucker," Mace muttered, staring at Ahsoka in shock.

Ahsoka grinned sheepishly and stepped back, disengaging her lightsaber. "Sorry - I got carried away and -"

"Skywalker!" Mace barked while he disengaged his lightsaber, glancing upwards at the viewing balcony. "Where the fuck did she learn humility?"

Anakin managed a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Good question - Obi-Wan?"

Mace snorted, glancing over to Caleb, who was standing gingerly. "You good kid?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

* * *

"Well you're home early," Ruwee murmured while he heard footsteps come from around the landing. He raised his eyebrows, not anticipating the glare his daughter - laying down on the couch, a bucket on the floor - was shooting at him in his peripheral vision.

Anakin Skywalker was shrugging out of his robe, looking undisturbed while he bent down and draped it over Padmé. "My padawan needed help with her homework - it's only 10pm."

"Padmé you're okay with that?"

"Daddy," Padmé muttered, rubbing at her brow. "Enough."

Anakin - now beside her - knelt and touched her forehead gently. "Need anything?"

"You're blocking the path to the bucket."

He chuckled, shifting and settling his back against the edge of the couch.

Ruwee tried to focus on the telenovela playing quietly - something about two lovers who couldn't be together, who knew, it was filled in Shili - but…

He kept glancing at Padmé, a little... something. He didn't know what. It was just... uncomfortable, watching Padmé - obviously in pain, in horrendous pain - quietly talk to her _husband_ while smoothing his hair.

Two days. That's how long he had been in the apartment, watching this strange little world of domesticity and politics and disability. The Padmé that snorted and giggled, the Padmé that sometimes threw up after eating a grape, the Padmé that was picked up and swung around by her much taller husband.

 _Husband. Anakin fucking Skywalker._ Anakin Lucas Skywalker, actually, who looked at her like she was the entire Galaxy - well, when he was even home. He kept odd hours, always commuting between the Temple, the Senate -

Padmé was a military wife, and her husband was a general in a galactic war.

"...and honestly, I - Ruwee?"

Ruwee blinked, forcing his gaze to his son-in-law. "What?"

He'd barely had a conversation with the younger man.

Anakin had taken out his gloves - oh, the bionic arm was creepy - lounging casually against the couch, one hand reaching upwards to grasp Padmé's on his shoulder. "Have you ever seen this show? It's amazing."

"It's horrible," Padmé mumbled sleepily. "Don't watch it."

"You told me you liked it!"

Padmé smirked, though she said nothing.

"I... don't mind it. It's a little dry in spots."

"Happens if something is on it's ninth season but -"

The sound of Padmé vomiting made the conversation screech to a halt. Ruwee realized - with horrible clarity - that he had never even taken care of his daughter when she was sick. It was always servants and Sola.

Anakin didn't seem to perturbed - concerned, but calm. He scraped back her hair, muttering something to her, rubbing her arm while she finished. "Bed?"

"No no I'm -"

"Padmé."

Padmé grimaced, looking close to tears before nodding. She carefully made to stand - and promptly buckled.

"Padmé!" Ruwee exclaimed, lurching out of his seat - and glancing over in surprise when Anakin had already grasped her wrist and was gently supporting her hip, looking somehow concerned and bored...how the hell was that even possible?

Padmé grimaced, pinching her nose and breathing deeply before straightening.

"Did you check your blood pressure?"

"Nearly beat my last record."

"Eat something salty," Anakin muttered, tracing her wrist.

Padmé wrinkled her nose, then rolled her eyes almost affectionately at the pointed look he gave her. "I'll have Dormé bring a sports drink - I'll probably vomit again if I eat anything."

Anakin chuckled, patting her back - well, her buttocks - watching her walk away and eventually be joined by Teckla upon rounding the corner. He leaned back in the couch, lowering the volume of the holo and -

"What the hell was that?" Ruwee demanded, watching in surprise while his son-in-law jumped.

"Padmé went to bed? I -"

He lurched to his feet, effectively towering over the man. "She nearly fainted! After vomiting!"

"...and?"

Ruwee stared at the younger man, not understanding how he could be so - so -

"Shouldn't she be at a hospital?"

"...for nearly fainting?"

"No for marrying you - yes for nearly fainting! Padmé is _sick -"_

"Thanks to your genes!" Anakin snapped, pushing away the remote and standing. He was nearly a head taller than Ruwee. "You didn't even tell her about autoimmune diseases that she carried -"

"Like anyone on Naboo is crippled - only _scum_ like -"

"Like me?" Anakin whispered, his voice a growl. The air in the room was electric, tingling around them. He narrowed his eyes, fists clenching.

Ruwee looked him up and down, then scoffed. "Maybe - you were a slave."

"Excuse me for having a common disease." Anakin stepped forward, leaning down and almost getting in Ruwee's face... _almost._ "What does Padmé have again?"

"You poisoned her."

"You have her half your DNA." Anakin shook his head, and turned on his heel.

"What the hell will you do when you're back on the battlefield?" Ruwee demanded to his back. "Your little unit can't possibly survive a deployment - it's not possible. She needs -"

"You _do_ realize she'll live to a normal age?" Anakin spun back around, looking at his father-in-law from across the room. The lights were dim, though the lights from Coruscant were drifting through, masking Ruwee's face. "It's not a death sentence -"

"Isn't it?" Ruwee shouted, looking close to tears. "I've researched it - it's progressive and...and - she would have been better dead."

Anakin opened his mouth, then closed it and walked out of the living room. He went in a daze, feeling terribly sick. The door to his bedroom opened, and stepped through it mechanically.

"That bad?" Padmé muttered from the bed while he shrugged his clothes off.

"Don't wanna talk about it." Anakin - now only in sleep pants - crawled into bed and leaned over to kiss her. She rolled onto her back before he could, a glint in her eyes. Raising his eyebrows, he gave a hesitant grin. "Now? You're feeling -"

Padmé reached upwards, tugging his lips to hers. She gave a hum, dragging her fingernails down his neck and sighing when he settled over her. " 'm feeling better."

Anakin moved her to her neck, balancing on the flat of his arms, feeling her legs move against his. It'd been weeks since they'd had sex - too much newness, too much fear.

But while he made his way down, listening to her moan - he realized the desire probably stemmed from her annoyance with her father.

Fine. Whatever. He nosed against her covered breasts, grinning at her gasp.

"Ani - _Ani."_

* * *

 _Author's note: well hello there :)_

 _I do love this story so much. It's allows me to write out how exactly how people - yes, even family - view us disabled folk. Some do it in disgust, some in morbid curiosity, and some don't even know what to think._

 _People also turn us into unsexualized people and *sniff* that's annoying_

 _Okay, rant over_

 _Enjoy!_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_

 _(Oh and before anyone asks - salt helps stabalize low or fluctuating blood pressure. I should know - two of my conditions are blood pressure related :D)_


	10. A Few Months Later

A Few Months Later…

* * *

 _Months have passed since the deadly Blue Shadow Virus. The Temple settles and begins to move on after the death of Siri Tachi. Her once-lover Obi-Wan Kenobi and his padawan Anakin Skywalker are coming home from a dangerous mission on Felucia when Skywalker receives terrifying news…_

* * *

Anakin wasn't quite sure if he had ever flown fast enough to Coruscanti Med. He was sure he caused at least one accident and maybe there was a police officer chasing him - but usually once the license plate of a Jedi was read, police left him alone.

He all but screeched into the Emergency Landing, shaking and about to vomit. He knew if he worried more he'd send himself into a seizure but -

God, what if Padmé -

 _No no nope no._

Exhaling a shaky breath and ignoring the stabbing pain in his lungs, Anakin jumped out of the speeder. Rain splashed onto his cloak, though he barely noticed.

"Sir -" the security officer at the door started before staring in shock.

Fuck. _Fuck fuck fuck._ He hadn't planned this. There were too many people around, too many that could overhear -

"Anakin!"

Anakin glanced passed the security guard, breathing a sigh of relief. "Gregor."

"Master Skywalker is with us," Gregor answered smoothly before the security guard could open his mouth. He took Anakin by the elbow, moving him into the hospital and the emergency room. A few people glimpsed them - some gasped, a camera flashed - but they moved through the doors quickly, sidestepping doctors and nurses that tried not to appear to shocked that _Anakin Skywalker_ was walking through the halls.

"What the hell happened?"

"They're trying to figure it out - calm down, Anakin, she's stable, just in massive pain. Dormé called an ambulance, they brought her in from the Nubian Embassy six hours ago. She stopped vomiting about two hours ago, receiving fluids too."

"There...the paz…"Anakin ran a shaking hand through his hair - God, when did it become so _long_ \- and nodded. "Can I - is anyone allowed in?"

Gregor cracked a grin, stopping before a door at the end of the hallway "You _are_ the spouse."

Trying to smile, Anakin received the clap on the back and turned to the door. It whooshed open, the air warm. It was always disorienting coming back to Coruscant, even more so when he met her at the hospital instead of their bed.

He stood there for a moment, taking in the small but sterile room. Some drawings of cartoonish animals on the walls, a tiny window, the consistent beat of a heart-rate monitor, the lump in the bed that was Padmé Amidala Naberrie Skywalker.

There was a comlink on the bedstand beside her, a holo talking quietly while she lay on her left side, eyes closed and curled in pain.

Not announcing his presence, Anakin walked to the bed and took the chair beside it. He smiled when she stretched out a hand, grasping it tightly. An IV was stuck in the crook of the elbow.

" _Anakin,"_ Ruwee Naberrie muttered while inclining his head. " _You made it."_

"I did - traffic held me up."

The corners of Padmé's lips twitched.

" _Mmm...well Padmé - let me know."_

Padmé nodded, then grimaced while the comm fizzled out. She withdrew her hand from his, rubbing at her nose.

"That bad?"

"Mmm... probably kidney stones."

* * *

Anakin sighed, listening to the agitator whir gently. He knew that it was impossible to hear from the bedchamber - there was no reason to wonder if anyone would wake up from the noise.

"Not like Padmé will anyway," he muttered, stopping the agitator just before dinged. He poured the water into the mug, watching the condensed milk and the chocolate froth. Taking a spoon from a drawer, he sat at the table and sighed.

The lights suddenly flicked on. Anakin squinted, glancing up at the silhouette in the doorframe.

"Anakin?"

"Gregor?"

The captain of the Nubian Senate guard gave a huff of laughter, rubbing a hand over his temples. "Sorry sir - didn't realize you were up. I heard noise and thought I'd investigate."

Anakin cracked a smile. "Understandable. I would have done the same thing." He gestured behind him. "Hot cocoa if you want it."

"Can't sleep?" Gregor asked, dimming the lights to something bearable and heading to the countertop.

"That's one way to put it," Anakin murmured, sipping at his drink. He set the mug down, staring at his mechanical hand and then at the Captain when he sat. "It's...hard, coming back home. Remembering everything."

"Watching her be in pain."

Anakin nodded, folding his arms on the table and letting out a heavy sigh. He wasn't one to open up - his mom had always told him to express his emotions, but Obi-Wan was practically an emotionally stunted sentient . He gave too much information or not enough, never able to do something _normal_ without making a scene.

"I forget what it's like," he decided on saying. "I feel so...helpless. Out of the loop. Ever felt like that?"

"Only when you two decided to get married."

He glanced up in shock, only to realize Gregor is smiling into his drink. Anakin rolled his eyes, wrapping his flesh hand around the mug. "Okay, I deserved that. How long have you been waiting to make that joke?"

"Only a year and change."

"Hilarious, Gregor."

Gregor shook his head before sighing and putting the mug on the table. "My husband has epilepsy - a different kind than you do. I...know what it's like, coming home and not feeling like you belong."

"Husband? The guy who works in the Nubian embassy, right? The linguist?"

"Thomas. It's pretty manageable now but...it's hard, watching your spouse suffer and not know what to do."

Anakin watched the steam curl in the air, suddenly feeling exhausted and _old._ "Sometimes I wish it was just epilepsy. Then Mé-Mé could have an implant put in and boom! Seizures gone."

"That's not how implants - "

"Let me have my fantasies, Gregor. I need them tonight."

Gregor gave a snort while they fell into silence. He looked out the window, tapping his fingers against his mug. "You know...Ser Naberrie was contacting Padmé every day she was in the hospital."

"Was he?" Anakin muttered, feeling himself tense up. He'd been home four days, with Padmé in the hospital until last night when she was released. His time was split between Coruscanti Med and the Temple, with only a few stops at the apartment to pick up things like clothes, flimsiwork, etc.

"Guess Sabé told him - the whole family." Gregor held a hand up when Anakin began to interject. "Padmé _was_ rushed from the Senate Anakin. It was probably to prevent them from believing the worst of the rumors."

Anakin deflated, bowing his head and giving a lofty sigh. He didn't know what to expect anymore...what more could life toss at them? The weird part though...was that when Padmé had the mild surgery to remove the kidney stones...he wasn't even nervous. Well nervous, but not overly racked with fear. This life was becoming normal.

"You have to at least give them updates Anakin...at least when Padmé cannot."

"What's the point of privacy then?"

"There's a difference between privacy and being a decent human being."

Anakin stared at the table a moment, then snorted and looked at the captain of the guard. "I should replace you."

Gregor chuckled, raising his mug. "To health then."

"To health," Anakin echoed, clinking his mug against Gregor's. "To health."

* * *

Obi-Wan blearily focused on the spread before him when he stumbled into the rest of the apartment. Waffles, fruit, syrup, cereal, tea… Ahsoka was seated at the kitchen table, happily eating a plate of bacon drizzled in syrup. She grinned the his bewildered expression, waving while she continued to shove her face.

"You made this?"

Anakin turned from where he was washing dishes, giving the table a once over. "Mm hmm - woke up early, couldn't sleep."

"Ah...so you decided to cook us breakfast?"

"Problem?"

Obi-Wan glanced at his former padawan, startled at the animosity he was receiving. "No - no, Anakin." He forced a smile, and sat down in his usual seat. When was the last time he'd eaten a proper meal? Maybe just before Siri died...he had mostly slept when they came back from Felucia...had that really been a week ago? "You haven't cooked in awhile - it threw me a bit."

Anakin scrutinized him for a moment, then shook his head and turned back around. "I tinkered with one of the recipes - replaced the milk with yogurt - hopefully it tastes okay."

Ahsoka - still with a mouthful of bacon - stabbed her fork at one of the waffles and dragged it to her table.

"Ahsoka," Obi-Wan chided quietly, filling his plate slowly.

"What?" She asked upon swallowing, giving a toothy grin. "Togrutans are carnivores."

"Without table manners?"

Ahsoka squinted at him, then snickered when she realized he was teasing her. She gave an overdramatic nod, shifting into an overly correct posture. "I'm so sorry, Master Kenobi - please, excuse me rudeness this morn."

Obi-Wan snorted into his tea. "I'm regretting letting you attend Master Windu's playwright lecture."

"Nah, I was imitating SkyGuy's soaps."

From the sink, Anakin flicked a bit of water towards Ahsoka. "Very funny."

Obi-Wan shook his head in amusement, not failing to notice the heavy bags under Anakin's eyes. He took a bite of the waffle, chewing slowly before saying, "Anakin, come join us. It's only fair a creator should enjoy his creations."

Anakin gave a lengthy sigh, finishing the dish was washing before striding to the caf maker. "Ahsoka - want some caf?"

"Sure!"

"Anakin, she's fourteen."

"You were an alcoholic at 15." Anakin slumped down in his seat and passed Ahsoka her mug. He didn't reach for any food immediately, instead sipping at his caf. "I heard you cancelled class today."

"Hmm? Oh right." Obi-Wan shrugged, continuing to eat methodically. "Just the afternoon ones - figured they deserved a treat. They've been working hard."

"But you didn't cancel mine yesterday" Ahsoka grumbled. "6am is _way_ too early."

"I apologise that you decided to take the class."

"It's a requirement!"

Obi-Wan chuckled, continuing to eat. He listened to them bickering, feeling a sense of familiarity wash over him. It'd been a long time since they'd say like this, eating and simply...being.

He glanced at Anakin, whom was silently sipping caf. How strange, that it took a war to sober the young man.

Well...sober wasn't the right word. Anakin rarely drank or even smoked. Sure, he drank caf like it was water but…

Something...well, it wasn't quite right these past few months. There was a rarely a night when Anakin was at the Temple, stumbling in for meetings and classes, absolutely exhausted, muttering to Aayla, having a tenuous working relationship with Mace...

" - shit!" Ahsoka was mumbling, shoving a piece of waffle in her mouth and standing, yanking a jacket from her chair.

"Language," Obi-Wan muttered out of habit, staring at Anakin's hand.

 _Is that a...wedding ring?_

"Bymastersthanksforbreakfast!" Ahsoka was yelling over her shoulder, flinging on her knapsack while she bolted out of the apartment.

They watched her leave, nearly running into Shaak Ti coming out her apartment across the hall.

"She's late for my class," Shaak murmered, watching the padawan. "I'm late for my - Anakin, that smells delicious."

"How do you know I didn't make it?" Obi-Wan asked, only to receive disbelieving looks. He held his hands in mock surrender and continued to eat.

"Do you want me to put leftovers in your fridge?" Anakin asked, already standing.

"Thank you Anakin."

Anakin nodded, puttering around the kitchen, chatting to Shaak To before she left, humming along to the radio he flicked on, covering a heaping plate of food and bringing it across the hall.

Obi-Wan stared at the end of the table, where a satchel lay. He heard Anakin outside the apartment, talking to Aayla Secura. Quietly, he reached over, digging around it it and extracting a pile of credits.

"Hopefully this is enough to buy a datapad," he muttered to himself.

* * *

 _Author's note: Does this story end just hours before "Secrets of the Negotiator" begins ;) ;) ;) maybe_

 _I enjoyed this story so much - glad you guys stuck it out with me. It started with me coping with some traumatic few months of health scares and doctors, and ended with my life (health wise) evening out drastically. I hope this wasn't too weird for anyone, but I found it very carthic. I know it wasn't long, but how much can you do when introducing a disability besides...well, introduce the disability?_

 _Don't worry, Padmé's disability will play a big role soon in this universe ;)_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_

 _P.S. I'll edit this tomorrow - I'm whipped. Oh and - thank you so much to the user "Amazing Spectacular Spider Man" - you favorited everyone of my stories while I was having a bad day and I cannot thank you enough for putting me on Cloud Nine. Even if you never read this - much thanks 3_


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